


A Place for the Unwanted

by DrabblingSparks (ingenious_spark)



Series: Saint Seiya prompts & short fic [199]
Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Awkward Flirting, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bonding, Child Neglect, Drabble, Dragons, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Magic, Naga, Prompt Fic, Recovery, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 05:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19986562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingenious_spark/pseuds/DrabblingSparks
Summary: Sylphid's sanctuary is disturbed, but it turns out to be okay, because the disturbance is an attractive dragon running away from his problems. Sylphid can relate.





	A Place for the Unwanted

**Author's Note:**

> From a list of prompts over on my tumblr, [@oopsbirdficced](http://oopsbirdficced.tumblr.com).
> 
> The prompts are all written by [@normal_horoscopes](http://normal_horoscopes.tumblr.com) over on tumblr! I encourage you to check them out!

_Capricorn: There used to be a church here. The old graveyard still stands. The lost and unclaimed always find a home here. This is a kind place._

Sylphid shifts in the tall grass, soft against his cool scales as he suns himself among the headstones. He can hear something, faintly, like wingbeats, quiet and frantic. He levers himself up on his elbows, the crest of purple feathers along his spine ruffling. Can’t a basilisk catch a break?

Then again, he has caught a break here, away from all the pain that his life has given him- a basilisk hatched to naga, especially with his coloration- he’s either cursed or royal, obviously. Most had gone with cursed.

(Where _had_ his parents gone wrong? Though it was clearly _obvious_ that his mother had had some kind of affair- the gossip had been so wretched that his mother had stopped her protests of albinism, of leucism, and just quietly accepted that no one would believe her. About the same time that she seemed to just… stop loving Sylphid.)

It’s a quiet place, a kind place. A place he hasn’t had to worry about gossip ruining his life, or having things thrown at him. He’s been able to grow into himself here.

Needless to say, he isn’t wild about the idea of company.

There’s a flash of gold, and something lands heavily beyond the ruined remains of what was probably a church. Sylphid sighs to himself, and gently untangles his coils from the gravestones, careful not to damage them.

Slipping silently through the wild grasses, he peers around the stones of the church, investigating the newcomer. He keeps himself low to the ground, relying on the purple wildflowers to disguise his feathers.

It’s a dragon, of some kind, he’s sure of it. The other is wearing a humanoid form, but he knows dragons are capable of shapeshifting, unlike naga. The other gleams white-gold in the sun, though parts of them are limned in a more sunny color, including a strong brow. They’re collapsed on the ground, wings laying almost haphazardly around them, and they look… strangely exhausted.

Sylphid is uncomfortably reminded of running away from home.

Also, they're… deeply attractive, wow. He waffles for a few moments, before finally, cautiously poking his head above the grass, keeping his head-feathers flat, so he doesn’t tip the other off to his unseemly heritage just yet. At the rustle of movement, the dragon whips around to face him, wings drawing in tight.

“…hi.” Sylphid says awkwardly. His eyes itch faintly at the intensity of the dragon’s molten-gold gaze, but he’s had a long time to control the killing magic of his gaze. One good thing, he supposes, about having spent most of his childhood blindfolded. The dragon slowly relaxes.

“Do you live here?” They ask, a touch awkward as well. “Do you mind if I stay a while? My name is Rhadamanthys.” That is a very regal name. It suits him.

“Can’t stop you.” Sylphid says, feigning being casual. Truthfully he’d love someone to talk to.

“…are you human?” Rhadamanthys asks, and Sylphid blinks at him for a second. Wow. He had to have had a deeply sheltered upbringing. Sylphid hauls himself up, shifting his body through the grass until he’s upright in a more traditional naga pose. His feathers flutter a little, trying to make him more attractive, despite his trepidation.

“Nope.” Sylphid hesitates slightly, before taking the plunge. “I’m a basilisk.” He says, tail shifting, coiling in on himself. Basilisks are harbingers of death, after all. Rhadamanthys might attack him. Rhadamanthys’s eyes go wide, and he stares, instead. Sylphid feels a little uncomfortable. “What, never seen a naga- a basilisk before? He bites out anxiously. Rhadamanthys shakes his head, glancing away, looking a little sheepish.

"No, I haven’t. I’m sorry, you’re just- really beautiful.” He says softly, and Sylphid feels utterly justified in gaping at him in surprise. No one has ever said that to him. “Dragons- can see more shades of color than most species. I think people generally call it ultraviolet? And you're… beautiful. In dragon society, I’m not. I’m on the wrong end of the spectrum to get beautiful ultraviolet patterns like yours.”

“Oh.” Sylphid says lamely. “I think you look really pretty. I mean. I can’t see any extra colors. But you do.” He says awkwardly. “Like a paler eyelash viper.” At Rhadamanthys’s confused expression he hurries to clarify. “A type of snake. There’s as many naga as there are types of snakes, after all.” Gods, this is super embarrassing.

“So, are you a naga, or a basilisk? Or is a basilisk just a type of naga? I’m kind of confused.” Rhadamanthys asks. Sylphid hunches in on himself.

“I’m a basilisk hatched to naga and raised among them. I’ve always been called unnatural and unlucky, so I really don’t know.” He mutters. Rhadamanthys looks contrite, edging closer to drape a strong, warm wing over his shoulders. Sylphid could swear he’s purring, like the small forest cats do.

“I’m sorry. I- it’s not really similar, what I’m running from. I just… got tired of being constantly compared to my brothers. They both got the silver-white genes, but I ended up gold, and on top of that, I’m a wyvern. Wyverns arent seen as high class, much less nobility, so for one to turn up in our family- it was a scandal, to say the least. It seems to have affected everything about me. I can’t ever measure up, somehow. It’s exhausting, and depressing, and I got in an argument with my eldest brother, so I just… left.” He shrugs awkwardly. Sylphid smiles faintly. This _is_ a place for the unwanted.

“I wouldn’t mind. If you wanted to stay a while,” he murmurs, glancing up at Rhadamanthys almost shyly. Rhadamanthys smiles too, small and warm.

“Okay. That sounds nice.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
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